


your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

by Atlanta_Black



Series: Merlin One-shots [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Feels, BAMF Gwen (Merlin), F/F, Morgana and Gwen's relationship deserved better writing, Morgana deserved better dammit, Pre-Relationship, past Gwen/Arthur mentioned but not important, season 3 divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: There’s supposed to be a choice here.There’s nothing but her shaking hands as she clings to Arthur’s waist and thinks of how close she is to seeing Gwen again for the first time in a year. Nothing but her shaking hands and Merlin’s accusing eyes boring into the back of her head. Nothing but her shaking hands and something horribly close to guilt sitting at the base of her spine every time she thinks of the relief and joy that had washed its way over Arthur’s face.There’s supposed to be a choice here. Supposed to be something other than these shaking hands and the worry that her inability to turn on one person will send this whole affair crumbling into dust. Worry, that if it comes down to a choice, between Gwen and Morgause, she won’t know who to pick.(She knows who she’ll pick but it’s ever so much easier to pretend that she doesn’t.)
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: Merlin One-shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875181
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't watched season 3 in _years_ so please forgive the way i ignore all canon events for Season 3, but really, it's better this way i promise

_“I long for your hands, two doves that shade the blaze of my longing.”_

-Maisoon Saqr

  


⚔

  
Morgana has faced many difficult decisions in her life before, but turning her back on Merlin is one of the easiest things she’s ever done. Perhaps if he hadn’t betrayed her first she would have struggled with it, but he had held poison to her lips and then dared to look regretful. Turning her back on him is nothing but what he deserves and it takes no convincing for her to pledge her hatred for him. 

Turning her back on Arthur aches and stings. Tendrils of regret, of doubt creeping through her ribs and around her neck. It’s Arthur. It’s the same little boy who had once punched a visiting noble because he’d dare try to make her cry. The same boy who would ride out to find cures for servants and help her sneak a druid child out of Camelot. She can’t help but think that if she told him, if she only told him, maybe he would pick her side. Can’t help but think that no matter his thoughts on magic, thoughts that she blames Uther for entirely, he would never hurt _her._

And she thinks that she’s right, but she also doesn’t know who he would pick if it came down to a choice between her or Merlin. Can’t know. Doesn’t know how far Merlin is willing to betray her and she doesn’t wish to betray Arthur, doesn’t wish to hurt him, but she can’t help but think that he would pick Merlin over her. She wants to hate him for that. Wishes that she could curse his name. 

But she thinks of Gwen and can’t find it in herself to curse him for doing the same thing that she would. She thinks of Gwen, and the way her sister had spit Guinevere’s name, and finds that she doesn’t know what to do. There’s supposed to be a choice in here somewhere. There’s supposed to be a crossroads, a path to choose, a road less trod. There’s nothing but the acid sweet taste of the knowledge that she won’t ever be able to bring herself to hurt Gwen. No matter what her visions show her, no matter what comes, she doesn’t think her hands will ever be able to hold a threat to Gwen’s throat and call it truth. 

Isn’t sure that Gwen would even believe her if she did. Too many middle of the night promises laying between them. Too many pacts and soft touches, forehead kisses that always verged on more, too many lost opportunities that are nothing but her own fault. If Gwen moves on, she cannot blame her for that. But no matter how often Morgause tells her, _they will all betray you_ , she can’t find it in herself to believe that of Gwen. 

There’s supposed to be a choice here. 

There’s nothing but her shaking hands as she clings to Arthur’s waist and thinks of how close she is to seeing Gwen again for the first time in a year. Nothing but her shaking hands and Merlin’s accusing eyes boring into the back of her head. Nothing but her shaking hands and something horribly close to guilt sitting at the base of her spine every time she thinks of the relief and joy that had washed its way over Arthur’s face. 

There’s supposed to be a choice here. Supposed to be something other than these shaking hands and the worry that her inability to turn on one person will send this whole affair crumbling into dust. Worry, that if it comes down to a choice, between Gwen and Morgause, she won’t know who to pick. 

_(She knows who she’ll pick but it’s ever so much easier to pretend that she doesn’t.)_  


⚔

  
The relief that carves its way through Gwen’s features when they ride into the courtyard draws the guilt from the base of her spine to the hollow space beneath her heart. The first touch of Gwen’s shaking, grateful hands pressed to her face nearly causes her knees to buckle from the weight of the guilt that appears to sit heavy on her shoulders. 

_“Thank god,”_ Gwen murmurs, pulling her into a hug, hands shaking where they’re pressed to her shoulders. “You’re safe, you’re safe, thank god.” 

She buries her face in Gwen’s neck and tries to not think of the betrayal that will lay on her face one day soon. Buries her face in Gwen’s neck and pretends that they are still sixteen and free of worry. 

“I missed you,” she whispers, hating how horribly true it is. How missing her had made a home between the hollows of her bones. A feeling that she never managed to shake no matter how much she’d tried to. “I missed you so much,” she chokes out. Looks up just in time to catch Merlin watching them with a wretched, heart sick look in his eyes. 

And that’s where she always comes back to. Are Gwen and Arthur truly worth it? Is she willing to bite her tongue and keep her peace for two people? One of whom may not even choose her when it comes down to it. Is there truly anyone else in this cursed castle worth saving? 

“Come, my lady,” Gwen murmurs, gripping her hand tight and drawing back. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

She nods, pressing her shaking lips together, not trusting herself to say anything else at all. She finds herself viciously pleased though when they pass Arthur and Gwen doesn’t even glance his way. Of course, considering that Arthur doesn’t spare Gwen a glance either, far too busy staring at her with concern, it is a shallow victory at best.   


⚔

  
Later, laying in the tub, and watching Gwen flit around the room aimlessly cleaning, she finds herself wondering what Gwen would do if she told her about what Merlin had done. She knows where Gwen falls in this choice, but what she doesn’t know is how Gwen will react. Would she rage? Would she cry? Would she go silent and unwilling to choose between them? _(Would she believe you, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Morgause whispers. Would she believe you at all?)_

“I’m really happy that you’re safe,” Gwen blurts suddenly, spinning away from the dresser she was wiping for the third time. “I’m really happy,” she breaks off, pressing her face to her hands and Morgana stares, heart heavy. 

“Oh Gwen,” she murmurs, wishing it didn’t feel as if her heart was trying to claw its way out of her mouth. “I’d never leave you.” Can’t help but think that the statement rings far too true. 

Gwen laughs wetly, scrubbing at her face and coming forward to help her rinse her hair. Later, sitting in the middle of her bed as Gwen brushes her hair, she wishes that she didn’t love this one girl so terribly much. Gwen’s fingers are so gentle as they untangle her hair, and her heart feels like a lead weight in her chest. 

“Stay with me tonight,” she blurts out, clasping her hands together tightly when Gwen’s hands still. “Please, I don’t want to be alone.” And it’s only half the truth but it’s still the truth nevertheless. 

“Of course,” Gwen says quietly, hands resuming their movement. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” 

She swallows down the question that wants to burst free, thinks of her sister and the reason she came back. Thinks of her people being slaughtered while Uther still sits on the throne and asks herself, _is she really willing to abandon her cause for one girl?_

She wishes she had an answer to that question.   


⚔

  
One night turns into a week and a week turns into a month. Gwen spends every night in Morgana’s bed, curls spread out against the white silk of her pillows and no one dares to say a word, all too busy assuming that Morgana is nothing but a fragile woman traumatized by whatever she’s gone through. 

Gwen spends every night in her bed and Morgana thinks herself in a circle about what to do. Thinks herself into fever that refuses to leave for days. 

Merlin stops trying to speak to her after a week, never able to catch her alone and she isn’t sure if that’s because he has terrible timing or because Gwen has picked up on her unwillingness to be alone with him and refuses to leave her side. Arthur however has no trouble speaking to her with Gwen present and is constantly coming to check up on her, completely unaware of how much harder he’s making all of this for her. 

“If there’s anything I can do,” he says, so very earnest, blue eyes so very wide and sincere. “Anything at all Morgana, please tell me. I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m fine Arthur,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I promise I’m fine.” And it’s not a lie but it isn’t the truth and she wishes it didn’t burn like acid that he worries for her so. Her absence seems to have burned away any reservations he had about showing her affection and now he is nothing but sincere words and worried eyes. 

Merlin narrows his eyes from behind Arthur and she has to bite back the curse that wishes to spring from her mouth. He betrayed her, how dare he level such a look at her. _How dare he?_

As much it burns, the trust that both Arthur and Gwen shower her with, every distrustful glare from Merlin makes the betrayal that much easier. Makes her long to shove poison down his throat so that he can see how it felt to be betrayed. 

_(Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Gwen warm and soft next to her, she’ll find herself wishing, pleading to the goddess, wanting to know what she did to make him hate her so. Sometimes, when she’s half asleep and too tired to hate him, she misses their friendship so much that it echoes through her bones like a warning bell. What did I do, she wants to scream, what did I do to make you hate me so? What could I have possibly done?)_  


⚔

  
Merlin breaks after two months, clearly having given up on getting a moment alone with her, and storms into her room one evening, ignoring Gwen’s outraged gasp. 

“We need to talk,” he snaps, fists shaking at his sides, eyes darting wildly around the room but never settling on any one thing for too long. 

“I can’t imagine what we could have to talk about,” she says flatly, snapping the book she’d been reading shut and straightening in her seat. 

Gwen clasps her hands together and watches them with wary eyes, the curiosity at what’s driven them apart clear in her eyes. 

“I want to apologize,” he bites out, glancing nervously at Gwen.

“As if an apology could ever fix what you did,” she scoffs, fighting down the urge to fling him from the room. 

He grimaces, glancing at Gwen again and she can’t help but wonder if Gwen has questioned him about this. “I want to apologize,” he says again, opening and closing his fists. “I just, you deserve to know why I did it. You deserve to know that I’m sorry, that I didn’t want to.”

“You _had_ to do it,” she repeats incredulously, slams her book on the table and stands. “You had to do it? Drawing her out was so vitally important that the only solution was to _poison me_?!”

There’s a sharp indrawn breath from Gwen and when Morgana glances at her, she finds Gwen staring at Merlin with murder in her eyes. The warm feeling spreading through her veins must be related but she’s not thinking about it. She isn’t. 

“I didn’t do it to draw her out,” Merlin snaps, taking a step away from Gwen. “I did it because that fucking curse was tied to your life force!” 

There’s a beat, the ocean roaring in her ears and Gwen’s worried hands on her arms. A beat where she thinks back to the long nights where she’d laid in bed and thought _why, why, why?_ A beat where she thinks of all the times Morgause had looked at her and said, _because in the end, everyone will betray you to get what they want._ Perhaps that should have been a sign. 

“You didn’t know,” Merlin says tiredly, sagging against a bed post and burying his face in his hands. “Of course you didn’t know,” he says, so quietly that she’s not sure she was even meant to hear it. 

“That doesn’t change anything,” she hears herself say, the ocean still roaring in her ears. “You _poisoned_ me. I was your friend and you poisoned me. The reason changes nothing.” 

“Get out,” Gwen says, the rage in her voice at odds with the gentleness of her fingers wrapped around Morgana’s wrist. 

A wretched, heart broken look crosses Merlin’s face when he raises his face to look at Gwen. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, voice cracking and she breathes deeply, doesn’t think about it. “I really am so sorry, if there’d been another way—”

_“Get out,”_ Gwen snaps. 

He swallows, meeting her eyes and then nodding slowly, before turning and walking out the door on shaking legs. 

She wants to forgive him and hates herself for it. Wants to forgive him but still hates him just the same. Hates him for what he did, for what he’d so easily thought of her. Hates him for shattering her perception of her sister. She wants to forgive him and god if that doesn’t make her hate him even more.   


⚔

  
“Aren’t you going to ask?” She asks later, after Gwen has helped her change for bed and is aimlessly puttering around the room. 

Gwen goes still, hands gripping the edge of the table as she stares at Morgana. 

“I trust you,” she says after a moment of staring. “You have never given me a reason not to. I trust you and he hurt you. So no, I won’t ask but,” she pauses, licks her lips. “But, if you want to tell me then I would be happy to listen.” 

“Join me,” she says after a moment, patting the bed. 

Gwen nods, moving to change into her nightclothes. Morgana thinks of the nightdresses stacked neatly next to her own and feels a deep pit of possessiveness open up inside of her, the unwillingness to give up the safety of Gwen’s arms. The fear that she may have to. 

They sit cross legged across from each other and before she even knows what she’s doing, the entire story is spilling out of her. From the time she’d learned that Morgause was her sister up until her return. Gwen listens silently, eyes so, so terribly wide. 

When she finally finishes, the candle long since burned down, leaving only the fire to cast strange shadows on them, Gwen says nothing. Merely stands and fetches her a glass of water which she accepts gratefully. She’d barely realized how dry her mouth was. 

“It sounds,” Gwen says finally, after the glass has been drained, “as if you were doing the best you could with what you were given,” she finishes softly, eyebrows creased in concern and Morgana’s throat goes tight so fast she forgets how to breathe. 

“I… you aren’t… I mean you don’t…” she chokes on the words, on the improbability of Gwen not hating her, at least a little, for lying to her for so long. 

“You did your best,” Gwen repeats firmly, pulling back the covers and shooing her under them. “Of course I wish that you’d told me sooner, but you did your best and I’m not mad at _you,_ ” she says, laying down facing her, her words making it clear that she has very much not forgiven Merlin. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, daring to reach out and grasp Gwen’s hand in her own. “Thank you.”

Gwen smiles at her, the smile still just as soft as it was this morning before she’d known all about all the things Morgana had done. “I will _always_ be on your side, Morgana,” she says, squeezing her hand. “I am always on your side before I’m on anyone else’s.” 

“Even Arthur’s?” She asks before she can stop herself, the jealousy she’s worked so hard to ignore trying to climb up her throat. 

A shadow of regret crosses Gwen’s face but her voice is calm and sure when she answers. “Always yours,” she repeats. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow. For now, sleep, you deserve it.”

She nods, smiling slightly when Gwen presses their feet together, and falls asleep dreaming of Gwen’s smile and sunshine. Dreams of nothing but hope and soft brown eyes. Tomorrow would bring trials and tribulations, would bring more decisions to make, but tonight, Gwen is warm and soft next to her, her bed a sacred place that belongs only to them. 

Tomorrow might bring sorrow but for now, she is safe in the arms of the only person to never hurt her. She won’t forget that, not again. Not ever again. 

She falls asleep and she dreams of Gwen _(always Gwen)._   


⚔

  



End file.
